Liles: Priceless
by Trapped Rabbit
Summary: Lily's back. And this time, it's slightly less personal. With James now her boyfriend, he must face the terror that is: LILY'S MAN'S MAN FATHER... As well as an obese, exbest friend A pregnancy scare a cockeyed exboyfriend whom her father loves and accusa
1. Chapter 1

**Yes. Long time, no updatey. I know. Kill me. Actually don't. Kill my funniness. It went, like, hay-wire. I don't know. I just became this unfunny lump of sod for a while. Ask my friends. Sadly, it's true. I think I spent too much time with my family...**

**Enough with the foreplay, here's the story..**

**-&-**

Sigh.

Meeting the parents. With James. This is going to be... intresting.

... No, it's going to be scary as hell.

And James knows it. I can see it in his wide, oh-my-fuck,-what'd-i-get-myself-into? eyes.

I patted his shoulder awkwardly as we waited for my parents to let us into their house.

Poor Possum.

He looks as scared as a high mexican who's prone to bouts of paranoia and thinks the walls are trying to steal his ACDC shirt.

"It'll be ok," I said, though my voice shook with LIES as I said it.

I'm honestly more scared than him because he doesn't know yet that:

A) My mother is an alcholic. And has anti-depressant medication. Fun sum: Alchol plus My Mother plus anti-depressants equals awful things like... dead babies. God Bless her, I always have an excuse if I ever started taking drugs ("But, officer, my mum SAID I could." "Oh, you're free to go then..." "What? I mean, oh, um thanks." "PHSYCHE. PSH. YOU REALLY THOUGHT I'D LET YOU GO? ARE YOU FO RIZZLE? I GOT YOU GOOD. I GOT YOU GOOD!")

B) Vernon Dursley (sex god extrodinaire) was over. Petunia's boyfriend (sigh). He's extremely good looking, albiet on the thin side. My mum said comfortingly once that when he grows up he'll be as fat as a cow, because that's the way both his mother and father look. I'm clinging to that hope.

and

C) My father. Oh god. You'll see what I mean when we meet him. He's where I get my rabid panda genes from... Yeah, it won't be pretty. At all.

plus

D) We have an ex-army neighbour who spies on us all the time. I'm serious. Just for something to do. He'll sit on his back porch making little notes about our every moment. It's kind of flattering.

... Damn it.

Where are my family?

Where oh where oh where oh where oh where oh where oh where -

James knocked on the door again, and then grinned down at me.

Nervously.

James. Nervous. Ha ha.

James' nervous smile is very nervous indee-

The door flund open and my dad instantly filled it up, booming, "LILY!"

He scooped me up in a huge hug, "YOU'RE NOT FAT ANYMORE!"

"I WAS NEVER FAT YOU INSOLENT LYCRA-WEARING SWEATER VEST!"

He chuckled, "Just the same as I remember you."

This is how we communicate.

Through painful ploys at the other's deepest insecurities.

... I love my Dad.

"You've grown a beard," I commented in distaste.

"Hey," My father said firmly, "MEN'S MEN have beards. And since I am a MAN'S MAN, yes, I have a beard."

Oh no...

Since last Summer, my father has kind of been going through this horrible "I AM A MAN'S MAN, HEAR ME ROAR" phaze...

It's really scary/sad/not sexy. Not that I would find my dad sexy anyway but, I mean, I'm not incestuous or anything it's just-

"Who's that?" My dad said, guesturing at James, a look of revoltion on his features.

"My boyfriend."

"He looks like a nancy's boy. Not very manly at all."

I glanced at James. Yes, he's very good looking. But he was also wearing a sweater vest and glasses.

When we have children, I hope they don't need glas-

WAIT A MINUTE.

WHAT?

_WHAT?_

_**WHAT?**_

_**WHAT?**_

JAMES? CHILDREN?

CHILDREN? ME? JAMES?

JAMES? CHILDREN? ME? HUMPHREY BOGART?

...Wait? What? How did a 1950s muggle screen icon come into this?

Anyways...

I'm only sixteen.

I don't want children. With James. Ever.

Haha, I can just imagine it. My rabid pandaness, James' messy hair - with my horrible red in it!

Oh it would be just flatulant.

- I mean, fabulous.

I always get those two words mixed up.

... Heh.

But what if, just by chance, my genes were the dominant genes?

And I was born a little girl with red hair who looked exactly like me.

That would be cool.

Then I could just lie and say James wasn't the father.

That my child was a product of immaculate conception.

... Don't look at me like that.

... It worked for Mary.

Oh what fun my child (not James') and I would have, running in fields, going on Merry-go-rounds, licking lollipops...

... calling James long, offensive, eloquent names, tag-teaming in insulting James...

Not that I want a child. It's just, if James and I ever do it (and that's a huge if... wait a second, how can one if be bigger than another? That's a stupid saying. I'm going to go cry in a corner in a round room.) and I get impregnanted my James' Sea Men (is that too obscene? I think so) because the INFAILABLE contraception.. failed, then I want the child to be like me.

When I stopped thinking and looked back at James and my father, I wished instantly I hadn't gone off on the whole "James/Child/How the Hell did Humphrey Bogart come into this?" tirade.

My father was currently telling James exactly why he wasn't a "Man's Man" like Petuina's 'perfect' boyfriend Vernon.

"And look at your sweater vest!" he cried, poking James in the chest.

I saw James' jaw clench. But he was taking it.

Tosser.

"LOOK AT WHAT YOU'RE WEARING!" I yelled.

"What?" Dad said blandly, turning around to look at me.

I montioned down to his lower half.

Dad stared back, apparently not realizing why I was guesturing at him.

"The KILT," I said.

"AHEM," My Father said sternly, "Kilt's are Scottish, and it's a well known fact that the Scottish people are all men's men. Even the women. But they're not gay and/or butch. They're just masculine. And not unattractively so. EVERYONE KNOWS that the Scottish people are the most hairy-chested, tobbaco-spitting, log-chopping people in the world - They are, by all rights, a _strong and superior _race. They can chop trees down with their bare hands! They can drill holes with their eyes. They can bite off the heads of their enemies with their minds! I wish I was Scottish."

My mother and Vernon came into the room half way through the 'Scottish people are men's men' tangent.

"...Robert, where did you get this information about the Scotts from?" My mother asked unsurely.

... Heh, she's obviously not high yet. She can still make decipherable sentences.

"From a show called Super Haggis... And from the Internet," he said, supposedly triumphant.

Vernon started shaking with laughter.

My heart skipped a beat as I saw his face scrunch up with mirth.

"WHAT'S SO FUNNY?" demmanded my father.

"Haggis," he wheezed through his manly giggles, "If you-" he broke into another fit of laughter, "If yo-" another fit, "If you" another fit.

"SPIT IT OUT!" demmanded my father.

Sigh, why couldn't he by my boyfriend?

...I meant Vernon, not my dad.

"If you put an "S" on the start of Haggis, It's SHAGgis."

That's why.

Silence reigned for a moment, only broken my Vernon's hysterical, almost epileptic giggles. Suddenly, my Father started roaring with laughter, "NOW _THAT'S_ A MAN'S MAN JOKE!"

They both collapsed in (Man's man) giggles.

James and I exchanged startled looks. Even I'm not used to this level of dad's obnoxiousness.

"Mum-" I started enquiringly.

"He's had half a bottle of red," my mother explained, "God, I could go for a drink. But I promised myself that I wouln't get sloshed until the dinner was ready."

"That's very responsible of you," I told my Mum proudly.

She grinned, pleased.

Don't look at me like that.

I never said our family was normal.

Did I?

No, you say.

"Robert, will you come into the kitchen with me?"

"SO YOU CAN SHAGGIS?" Vernon asked, still doubled over, laughing.

"THAT'S A GOOD ONE!" hooted Dad as he was dragged off to the kitchen.

And then there were three: Me, James and Humphrey Bogar- DAMN IT, why does he keep coming up? _GOSHSTICKS! _Me, James and Hu- I mean, Vernon...

"So, are you shagging yet?" asked Vernon conversationally.

James and I exchanged glances.

This was going to be a long night.

And I'm not even drunk.

-&-

**Scarlet Emerald: You say faithful to my story, that you'd faithfully await it... But did you? Don't lie, I saw you reading another story that... that... hussy. It's over! (I'm joking.. Keep reviewing... Please)**

**GoddessoftheMaaN: Thanks heaps for your kind review. I'm sorry it took so long to update.. But you know, I was really for a while... To much of that Spin Off Joey, It's not funny..**

**Snuffles101: Hopefully, you haven't like gone off my story and decided it was gay in the two months that I was away. If you're reading this: Spigglyspooch.**

**Dr. Spigglyspooch - he specializes in tongue hair. He doesn't make much money, but you know, he still lives in the same cardboard box as his parents... And he's FORTY!**

**Ourlittlesecret7: I, too, love Anchorman. "Rick... we're you get a hand grenade?" "I don't know". "So Hot... Milk was the wrong choice." "They've done tests, you know.. 60 percent of the time, it works, everytime." **

**Phsycho-pyro-shrink: Thanks! I'm sorry it took so long to update... I am pond scum. Scum among the ponds. I AM OPHELLIA BALLS, HERE ME ROAR! ... I'm actually not... but ... OH MY GOD I MISSED DR. PHIL!**

**Addled.Brain: Yes, I believe that wonky eyed people are A) Fags (And I do not mean ciggarettes), B) ... Sob. I'm sorry. I can't function like this... I MISSED DR. PHIL:'(!**

**Queen Noisla: Thanks for my finding my story very amusing. It makes me sob with pride... That and I missed Dr. Phil (sobs)**

**Miss Kat: If you've put my full name in a review, I will kick you... In the knuckles.**

**GaryLovesPickles: I kind of abandoned the preview, I wanted to add crazier bits... Plus, I didn't know how to fit in the MAN'S MAN Jokes if I didn't. **

**Luanna: Thank you for your kind words. They fuel the world with their excellence. **

**Until Next Chapter,**

**You Radioactive, feasting-on-the-children crocodile, you**

**Love,**

**Trapped Rabbit. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Ahem. Okay. So I haven't written a chapter in ages. I know. Shoot me. In the foot. Please. I've been really busy wit- Ok, that's a lie. I've been Lay-Z. Ha ha, like Jay-Z only not. I'm a Feminem. Haha like female, Only Eminem. Okay, anyway, this chapter was dedicated to the person who made Passionfruit Tic Tacs. They taste horrible, spicy and disgusting. They make Rose feel like she's going to die. But God Damn it, what would we do without them? **

**Imagine the scene now...**

**Advisor: (Preferrably in a southern accent) SIR! HORRIBLE NEWS! OHMAFUK WE'VE RUN OUT OF PASSIONFRUIT TICS TACS.  
****President of America: You.. You mean, even in the vault?  
****Advisor: _Escpecially _in the vault!  
****President: Oh My God! FIRE THE MISSILES!  
****Advisor: (stares) But, sir that won't really help anythin-  
****President: God damn it, I SAID FIRE THE MISSILES, Syd. And while your at it, get me on the phone to Russia. We're declaring war.  
****Advisor: But, Sir- This would PROBABLY event in Nuclear War, meaning everyone would die-  
****Presidont: Shut THE FUCK UP! NO PASSIONFRUIT TIC TACS, NO WORLD. **

**(Everything explodes)**

**... So that's why I love Passionfruit Tic Tacs.**

**Enough Foreplay.**

**Here's the chapter. **

-&-

"No, we're not shagging," I responded, rolling my eyes, "As if I'd let James deflower me."

James gave me a mixtured sad/startled look.

"Don't give me the puppy eyes, we're not shagging you oddly-shaped foot."

"As if he'd let you touch him. Phht."

Obnoxious voice.

...Horse-like features.

...Horrible, googly eyes.

"HORSEFACE!" I cried happily, throwing my arms around her.

"Ew, get off, ugly loser," crowed my sister, Petunia.

Oh, she's just playing.

We always joke around like that.

"Afraid I might poison you, you kidney-size guitar string?" I asked cheerfully.

"I wouldn't put anything past you. Who's your ugly gay shit sweater-vested friend?" she sneered in James' general direction.

"This is my boyfriend, James Harold Franseco Potter."

I know.

Funny name.

It's ok, you can say 'LOL'.

I may even have a giggle myself.

"Freak, what are you laughing at?" Horsefac- Petunia snapped.

"James' Middle Name," I said, still chortling.

"Yes, it is quite humourous," Petunia said.

And then the weirdest thing happened.

Quite creeped out, I watched in a sort of awe as the end of Petunia's lips began to…

Rise.

Was she…

No, she couldn't be…

"What the _HELL_ are you doing?" asked Vernon, a look of horror fresh on his face.

The moment was ruined.

Damn almost smile.

Damn Vernon.

Damn Petunia Horsey-Faced Face Face Face.

"Nothing," Horse Face said, frowning at me.

"Okay then," I said.

"It is indeed, okay."

"Don't try to upstage my saying with an indeed, you star spangled hootenanny."

"Lily, the long, eloquent nasty names are getting really _old_," Horse Face said, grabbing Vernon's wrist and spinning out of the room.

To go make out.

Ew.

**Ew.**

_**Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.**_

"Yeah, well one word isn't enough to describe your despicableness!" I yelled after them.

Turning to James, I asked unsurely, "Your family's not this weird, are they?"

James shook his head vigorously, "They're worse."

I glared at him, "No, no they're not. Unless you have a gay step-uncle who's shacked up with your recently divorced father, a hemophiliac dare devil brother, and a vegan mother, _I_ win."

James raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

I should of listened, damn it.

-&-

James' mother had hair like a 60s Housewife.

You know that terrible, flippy hairdo?

That most people hate?

Yeah, she's got hair like that.

When she first saw me her face wrinkled a bit.

It was really gross.

She was wearing an apron, complete with pink frills.

It was really gross.

She made a squealy noise when she saw James, "Oh, Jamsey, dear! You look so... Handsome. And rugged! And manly!"

I don't know why, but I got the distinct impression she was lying.

I mean, yes, James is slightly... I mean, to a certain extent... Ok, he's hot.

And, yes, I _did_ call him 'yummy' last year.

But I mean...

Um...

Hearing it from his mum?

It was really gross.

And then she turned to me, "Oh! And look at your adorable little girlfriend!" she waved at me like I was retarded, "Hi there, Lily Evans."

I stared back vacantly, "Um... Hello?"

"She's a _gem_," James' mum said, letting us into their house.

James' father was sitting there, in a stuffed arm chair.

Smoking a pipe.

A _pipe_.

A PIPE!

I know, I know.

And if that wasn't bad enough, he was wearing a cream knit-sweater vest.

...With loafers.

If Dad saw this, he'd probably go insane.

My parents, and James' parents, can never, _ever_ meet.

_Ever_.

"UP-BUP-BUP!" James' mother squealed as I started walking into the living room.

She stared at me expectantly.

What does she want from me?

What the Hell does 'Up-Bup-Bup' mean?

I looked to James for help.

He started back, also expectant.

"Um... Thank you.. For... Welcoming me into your lovely home?" I asked awkwardly.

James' mother eyebrows shot up, and she exchanged glances with an equally scandalized James.

What douchebags.

WHAT DID I DO WRONG?

"Lily," James voice was strangled, "Your _shoes_."

I looked down at them.

They were converses.

Um...

So?

It's not like they have Ku Klux Klan remarks written all over them.

"Yes?" I asked, bewildered.

"They're _on_."

I stared at him.

My boyfriend insane.

Or an extreme stater of the obvious.

"Um, I believe they are."

James sighed, gesticulating to the floor, "Take them _off_, Lily."

Oh...

That's all they wanted me to do?

How the _Hell_ was I supposed to know that "Up-Bup-Bup" meant 'Lily, take off your shoes'!

I slid them off.

"Thank you, dear," said James' mother warmly, "We keep our shoes off because white, white, white is the colour of our carpet. And we'd like it to stay that way."

She sang the white carpet bit.

She sings like a strangled, neutered lemur.

And by that I mean...

Not good.

I felt really out of place.

I gulped nervously.

"Um, I like your..."

Crap crap crap.

I have no conversation starting skills.

Shit.

What the hell should I say?

All three Potters looked at me expectantly.

"I like your... Doilys?" I said, my voice becoming strangled.

They stared at me.

There was so much staring happening today.

It was like being in a room with fifty uptight dolphins.

Because, you know, Dolphins never close their eyes.

Not even to sleep.

... Or so I've heard.

It was a reliable source, though.

I don't just trust anyone these days.

Silence filled the room.

"So... Did you know that dolphins never... Blink?"

Oh.

My.

God.

I'm so dissapointed.

In myself.

My hand is twitching to slap myself.

Must...

Not...

Slap...

Self...

In...

Front...

Of...

Uptight...

Mother...

James looked at me grimly.

'Shut up, you tic-tac festooned fromage,' I said in thought waves.

Fromage is French for le cheese.

This was going to be a long Sunday Brunch.

And I wasn't even drunk yet.

**-&-**

**Warning: I was high when I wrote this chapter. Like, seriously high. Like, Siriusly High. Ha ha, it's like serious, only Sirius Black, the character from the popular children's series, Harry Potter. This may be a less funny chapter when I come off this high, but for now, it's knee-cracklingly, tooth-bashingly, spit on your neck and gouge out your eyes hilarious. Wow. I really am high. I'll take down this chapter if I, after my high, find it excessive in the gay and stupid and faggish criteria. **

**Ok, well, I haven't responded to anyone's reviews because I want to get this up ASAP! I'll be responding to everyone's reviews next chappie. It'll be cool, because I'll be all, "Hey, this person's reviewed TWICE."**

**My Little brother is exhibiting signs of becoming more and more like me everyday. I just caught him playing "Bionicles", which is normal, as one was standing over the other with a gun. BUT THEN, the dominant Bionicle cried out, "THAT'S RIGHT, YOU'RE A CHIMPMUNK!" Now my little brother's upset because I like collapsed into a fit of giggles and he has no idea what about.**

**Oh, by the way, I cut up one of my friends pictures by "accident" one day, so I was all, "Um... I'll say people should go to your... Story on Fanfiction?" And she was all, "Yeah, you better." So, Go to Eveleen's story about a girl called "Eve". Um it's called the Marauders and Me surfie-aussie-chick.**

**Um...**

**...Yeah**

**Toddle-OooooOooooOooooOOooooOoooooOoooooOooooOoo,**

**My styled, perplexingly shaped green balloon,**

**Trapped Rabbit**


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